


Swimsuit

by Ami_Bel



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, absolute control shipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ami_Bel/pseuds/Ami_Bel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyrus & Giovanni have fun at the beach with friends (and enemies... frie-nemies)!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimsuit

**Author's Note:**

> The second ACS gift prompt I wrote; it reads as both a stand-alone and possible short sequel to her short ACS story. I don't have the other author's A03 handle so I unfortunately can't link you to her. D':

Giovanni and Arianna lay side by side on beach towels, sunning themselves while discussing Silver. Where he was, how he was doing, whether or not he had let his resentment die down enough to where the two of them could have conversation that didn’t end in a screaming match. Giovanni knew he was no father of the year, but he really was trying to make up for it.

Cyrus was on his way back to looking at the rock pool where he had found Totodile, with said Pokemon following at his heels. His thoughts were on its rare coloration and he wondered if the genetic mutation was simply a hiccup in its DNA or if it was some adaptation forced by its environment.

He stopped dead in his tracks and let out a bone rattling gasp of surprise when he suddenly felt a hand grab his wrist. The sound caught Giovanni’s attention immediately, as it made his own hair stand on end.

“Hey! You, uh..” Petrel looked at Cyrus with a friendly, thought not at all innocent, smile. He removed his hand and waved to the glaring Giovanni. No harm, no foul. Not like he meant to spook the kid.

“Uh, Cyrus, right,” he said. “Yeah, new guy, you swim? You should totally come swimming, dude!”

“Petrel…” Arianna said his voice in a warning tone.

“I’m just being friendly,” he shouted back with a shrug of his shoulders. “Come on, he’s not a kid! We’re at the beach to have fun, right, new guy? We’re all pals here, aren’t we?”

“If he doesn’t want to-”

“It’s fine,” said Cyrus, cutting her off. He wore an exasperated glare but assumed Petrel did have a point. Besides, these were Giovanni’s friends and he didn’t want to ruin his fun. The least he could do was be a little social.

“Do you even know how to swim,” asked Giovanni.

“Yes,” he answered. “Physical education was mandatory at my school. Swimming was the least strenuous choice.”

“Yeah, right on,” shouted Petrel, as he gave him a slap on the back, not noticing how Cyrus recoiled at his touch. “See, it’s all good!”

Giovanni stared incredulously at him. He knew Petrel, hell, he hired Petrel, all because of his ability to carry out a scheme while leaving everyone none the wiser. There was no move he made that wasn’t calculated to get him his desired results. He doubted he had any scheme against him or Cyrus but if he did, he’d be damned if he’d sit idly by and let it play out like wanted.

Arianna raised an eyebrow at Giovanni but went back to her sunbathing with a laugh.

“He is a grown man, Gio. You don’t need to watch him like a hawk.”

“It’s not him I’m watching.” However, his sight of Petrel didn’t last very long.

Cyrus had dressed predictably for the occasion. He liked to cover up and it had been a fight just to get him to wear sandals. So it was surprising to say the least when he stepped back and pulled off his clothes without a problem. First, he pulled off his shirt, and before anyone could stop him, his shorts were around his ankles.

“Oh-”

“My-”

“God, in heaven…”

Giovanni already knew of Cyrus’ affinity for women’s underwear on the grounds of comfort. What he didn’t know was just how bold Cyrus was. As he thought about it, he suddenly felt like an idiot for not realizing sooner. Of course the person with no emotions wouldn’t care what others thought of him. Although to be more accurate, it wasn’t that Cyrus didn’t care; it was that he had no way of knowing.

It was surprising that he would strip with ease in public. It was downright heart stopping that Cyrus stood there, without a second thought, in such small swim briefs that left little to nothing to the imagination.

It didn’t just hug him tight, the soft fabric was such a perfectly snug fit that it seemed apart of his skin. It had two cut out panels, one on each side of his hip that began at his pelvis and ended just above his tail bone. Decorative stitching marked an X just above his family jewels. And the designers had included, in case of some emergency where pulling the bikini off wouldn’t be enough, to include a quick escape route for his member with the use of a drawstring.

 

“Arianna,” breathed Giovanni, in a raspy voice.

“Are you okay?”

“Could you just… check to see if I’m having a heart attack? I think I’m feeling a little tightness in my chest…”

“Sweetie, I think that tightness is in your cargo shorts,” she laughed. “You better pull yourself together, it looks like he needs you.”

Cyrus was completely unaware of the strange looks he received. It’s not like he was the only one in risque clothing. It’s just that the others were all women. Even then, he thought nothing of it. He didn’t know just how much he stood out until Proton made a beeline for him, shouting all the while.

“How fucking dare you,” he screamed.

Proton was, or had been, the youngest Rocket Executive. Archer had brought him on sometime after Giovanni quit and so, Proton had little to none of Archer’s respect for the old boss.

To him, Team Rocket was a job where he got paid more to the crimes he would’ve one anyway. He was a thug with a pretty face and no shortage of lovers. He considered himself not only the most ruthless thing in Team Rocket but also thought of himself as the most handsome. He took great care of his appearance and it rewarded him by allowing him to get away with his crimes through seduction and lies. Man or woman, he considered no one to be beyond his abilities of ensnarement. No one bothered to correct his ego and so, he considered himself uncontested.

That was until Cyrus stripped to near nudity on a public beach and stole his attention.

“Excuse me,” asked Cyrus. His tone was still calm, albeit clueless.

“No, you’re not excused! The fuck do you think you’re doing, huh!?”

“Woah, there. Look, calm it down, Proton.” Petrel stepped in front of Proton and held his hands up, ready to deflect any blows that may come his way.

The only thing that Proton was uncontested at was his homicidal temper. Even the great height difference between himself and Petrel wasn’t enough to stop him from trying to find a way to his target.

“No fucking way! Lookit what he has on,” he continued. “You’re telling me you think you’re hot shit, huh? Just cause you’re screwing the old man, you think you’re better? Is that it, rent boy?”

The look on Petrel’s face went from shocked to pitiless apathy as Proton was knocked off his feet and into the by a punch to the face. He thought Proton deserved more but he’d settle for now.

“Watch who you’re running off to,” shouted Giovanni. “Speak to him that way again and I guarantee you won’t be getting up.”

“Hey, I was just about to do that myself,” smiled Petrel.

“Shut up, Petrel,” he snapped.

With an arm around his waist, Giovanni half carried and half dragged the still confused Cyrus away.

Proton got up, holding onto his swollen cheek and swallowing the taste of blood that had come with it.

“He punched me,” he said in disbelief, “in the fucking face!!!”

“That’s a pretty light punishment, considering the old days.” Petrel shrugged him off and went to go sit next to Arianna. Archer might try to kill Proton for his disrespect but he was the last person to care.

“I have a to-do list,” he told her, “and its name is Cyrus Akagi. Dude has skin like a glass doll and the body of a teenage… girly-boy? Boyish-girl, maybe?”

“And Giovanni would kill you,” she said, in disgust at Petrel’s quick infatuation. “Not figuratively speaking, either. You did see how he reacted when you touched him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well… Sometimes life gives you lemons. And sometimes, those are lemons are hot, androgynous, waif-like dudes in tiny shorts. I will die as I lived.”

 

“Being a dumbass,” she finished for him.

He corrected her, “a dumbass with lemonade!”

Meanwhile, Cyrus was stumbling to keep with Giovanni’s angry strides as he marched them away from the crowd.

“Please, slow down,” he begged. “Where are we going?”

“We’re leaving, Cyrus” he growled back.

The anger in his voice and the tight grip on his arm made Cyrus worry.

“Leaving? But what about your friends?”

His voice was beginning to break and he could feel another attack coming on.

“Where’d you even get that swimsuit!?”

“From… a business trip in Hoenn! Giovanni, please, can you slow down!”

The panic was setting in faster now. He could tell Giovanni didn’t intend to do much listening to him, not right now anyway. It was as if he was impervious to him. All he could see was the back of his head as the walked. This sense of despondency, the trouble he was having keeping up with his speed and his absolute lack of grace in flip-flops, the passing eyes and unfriendly smiles of the faces that passed them…

“Stop,” he shouted. “Giovanni, please talk to me, this is unsettling me!”

With that, Giovanni stopped dead in his tracks and let Cyrus slam right into him. He turned and leaned in close to his ear.

“You wanna know what’s going to happen,” he asked sarcastically, his voice was no less angry. “I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen. This is exactly what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you to the changing rooms. I’m going to lock the door. We’re going to get in the shower. And I’m going to fuck you in that swimsuit.”

Giovanni waited for his answer, for a response, any kind of reaction but got nothing. Either he had gone back to being stoic as usual or he had broken him. He sighed and kept walking. If he had shell-shocked him, then he’d just take him home and explain to him that he hadn’t done anything wrong but that there were certain standards concerning beach wear. At least on public beaches.

He smacked his lips at the thought that after today, Cyrus would probably never wear anything more revealing then a turtle neck ever again. It was a shame. He really did like the way it looked on him.

While he was lost in thought, so was Cyrus. The difference was that he was better coordinated. The flip-flops had finally taken their toll on Cyrus and the trip sent him face first in the sand. Because of his hold, Giovanni had nearly had his arm ripped off as well.

“Shit, are you okay?”

He kneeled down and reached out both hands to help him up. Cyrus sat up and gently pushed his hands away.

“I-I’m fine, thank you.”

Giovanni stared, speechless with his jaw dropped. Cyrus was… it was much more then a smile. He was smiling and shyly trying to hide it. He tried to purse his lips but the corners were curled up. His eyes had been softened and his blushing cheeks were pushed up. Even as he tried to look away and hide his mouth behind his fist, Giovanni could still see it clearly. Bashful, smiling Cyrus.

Cyrus cleared his throat as he got onto his feet. He held out his hand for Giovanni to take but still refused to look directly at him.

“So… uhm… I believe we were going to the changing rooms, you said?”

Giovanni swept Cyrus into his arms and continued his march to their destination.

“I am going to peel those damn things off with my teeth.”


End file.
